


Second Star to the Right

by Arien



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M, Stargazing, Tumblr Prompt, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-03 23:18:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arien/pseuds/Arien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stars, the Shed, a questionable ghost story ... and the usual lack of personal space.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Star to the Right

**Author's Note:**

> Filling a prompt on Tumblr for traveling-giants <3

"Your car's rubbish."

"At least I've _got_ a car. What've you got, Gillan?"

"I've - "

"No license, that's what you've got."

"Rather have no license than this old bomb."

Matt closed the driver's door and gave it a little pat. "Don't listen to her."

"What'd you call her? The Shack?"

"The _Shed._ Now get up here."

Karen regarded the bonnet, calculating the best way to climb on top of it. The Vauxhall Corsa's silver metal was pretty clean, smooth, sloping gently down. In the end, she tossed the blankets into the middle and turned her back, using her hands to lever herself up. Matt was doing a similar thing on the other side. Their jeans squeaked on the surface as they scrabbled up.

"What happened to the wing mirror?"

"Huh?"

"It's all taped up."

Matt didn't answer until they had wiggled right up the top of the bonnet. Their backs were against the windscreen, legs stretched down. They arranged a thermal blanket over their knees. The car was parked facing an open field, edged with faraway trees, darkening in the rapidly falling light. Twilight was nearly spent. With every passing moment, more stars burned brighter in the endless, clear sky overhead. Matt and Karen tipped their heads back to take it all in.

He zipped his quilted jacket as high as it would go. "It fell off."

"Funny. How?"

"It's not a good story, I'm afraid. Clipped it backing out of my friend's place. On his girlfriend's car."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, she wasn't pleased."

"What about the dint at the back?"

"Huh?"

"There's a dint at the back."

"Erm, don't remember. Did the one in the door getting out at the supermarket. Banged it on one of those things they put trolleys in."

Karen crossed her arms and pulled the blanket up a little higher. She was wearing a beanie with a gigantic pom-pom, warming her ears. "How'd it get the name?"

"Blame my sister. When I got it, I took it out for a spin with my mates. Packed full of them. She said were were tools, car full of tools, someone said shed ... y'get it."

"Your car stories are really boring," Karen said, innocently.

"You asked. Shut up, Plural!" 

He reached inside his pocket and opened up the little, handheld book. It was stuffed with star charts, and it was the reason they had come out here on this cold, clear April night. His glasses had been left behind and he squinted in the poor light to make out the print.

Karen shifted until they were shoulder-to-shoulder. She peered at the little book. Unthinkingly, Matt put his arm around her. It made sense, sharing warmth. His fingers absently rubbed her far shoulder.

"Let me, hang on," Karen tugged out her phone. When she activated it the sudden glow almost blinded them both. "Okay, ow!"

"Idiot!"

"Well, we couldn't see! We were going to go cross-eyed trying to read in the dark!"

"As opposed to going blind by that bloody light? Seriously, Karen, you've scorched my retinas."

"Oh shut up, have not."

The light went out.

Matt nudged her. "Press it again!"

"The fuss you made - ! One of these days, Smith," Karen muttered, bringing the light back and angling it at the book, "pow, right in the kisser."

He looked up. "Okay. This is shit. That fucking light on, can't even see the stars properly now."

"Oh no, you're gonna have to memorise stuff."

His finger jabbed at one constellation. "That one. Orion's Belt. Turn your phone off."

"Wait on," Karen turned her head to read. " _The Belt of Orion, or otherwise known as Orion's Belt, is an asterism in the constellation of Orion. It consists of three stars: Mintaka, Alnilam and Alnitak._ D'you think that's _al-nit-ak_ or _all-nit-ak?_ "

"No idea. Light. Off."

Karen stuffed it back in her jacket. It took a few more minutes for their eyes to adjust to the darkness and for all the stars to light up once more. It was cold, but between the blanket and their shared warmth, it was not distracting. They sat in companionable silence, leaning against the windshield.

"There's so many," Matt whispered, "you forget that, don't you?"

"Yeah, London blocks them all out," Karen whispered back. "Did you know there are people in Japan who've never seen stars, because the light pollution's so bad?"

"Shit, really?"

Their stargazing expedition wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision. During the last few weeks of filming Season Six the idea had somehow worked its way into their heads. Karen kept saying it was just a pipe dream, that they'd never actually do it - and Matt had been determined to prove her wrong. With filming now complete, he set aside a weekend and kept pestering her about it. Endless were his texts and reminders. He gave the Shed a test spin to make sure she was up to the journey, and then made an adventure out of it. Karen arrived in Northampton Saturday morning by train, and after dinner with his parents they struck out east, driving for hours as night gradually blanketed the land.

"Did you ever hear that ghost story about the car that broke down on the side of the road?"

"I don't want to hear the ghost story about the car that broke down on the side of the road," Karen answered, wincing. That was like giving him a free pass.

"Well, there's lots of different versions," Matt said in a low, sinister voice, "but in all of them, an axe murderer finds the car ..."

"Which star's which? I mean, which one's Alnitak and Mintaky and the other one?"

"Some of the stories say that the girl was in the car while the bloke went for help, and she heard this weird thumping on the roof ..."

"Does anyone know? If they're listed in order, which way do you read from?"

"And it was the axe murderer with her boyfriend's head."

Karen was ignoring him, so Matt started impatiently nudging her.

"With the head, Karen, the thumping was the head. Hey, Kaz, what d'you think of that?"

"Ugh, shut up, you're so annoying! I don't want to hear your stupid ghost stories!"

"Scared?"

"No, they're just stupid."

"You're scared."

"How could I be scared of some stupid story that you can't even tell properly? It wasn't scary or anything."

"Scared!"

"I'm trying to enjoy the stars, thank you very much!" She gestured sharply at the sky. "Did you bully me into coming out here just prattle ghost stories?"

"No," Matt replied, a little offended. "No. Just ... making conversation."

"Yeah, it's up to your usual brilliant standard."

After a few moments of silence, Matt pointed his far arm at the sky. "I think that one's Mintaka."

It was impossible to tell which of the three (never mind the countless sea of stars) was the one Matt meant. Or perhaps it was only impossible to someone who did not know him well. When Karen looked up at that magnificent sky, her gaze was drawn to a single star.

"Second star to the right?"

"And straight on till morning."

Silence ticked by, until Karen suddenly said, "is that from - ?"

"Peter Pan, yeah."

They looked at one another in unison, grinning. The moment seemed to stretch out between them, comfortable and yet ... significant. Their eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to make out one another's features, and they were close enough to make out details. From where he sat, Matt could see stars mirrored in her eyes. Galaxies of stars.

Karen's gaze lowered to his mouth. Matt became acutely aware of the sudden shift between them. He always was, and he was certain it was the same for Karen. A change in the air, subtle yet palpable, powerful. Since the day they met this would happen - sometimes he could see it coming, other times not. But they always came back to this point, to this barrier they could not break, could not cross.

Matt looked away first. Like every other time, the tension only felt thicker after they met at the barrier and backed away. In his peripheral vision Matt saw Karen return her attention to the sky, galaxies away.


End file.
